


Vater Unser

by blackazuresoul



Category: Hellsing
Genre: Churches & Cathedrals, Confessions, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Religion Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 07:27:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackazuresoul/pseuds/blackazuresoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alucard had heard that confession was good for the soul and what better way to spend a Saturday night than to visit his favourite confessor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vater Unser

The heavy wood door creaked softly on its hinges, the bas-relief images on the face depicting the stations of the cross. Such was the splendour of St. Agostino Basilica. A white glove passed over a carving as the dark-clad figure stepped into the vestibule.   
  
All was quiet, save hushed prayers that floated on the perfumed air of the nave and the occasional sound of someone shifting in their pew or adjusting their supplicant positions on padded kneelers. These mundane noises were hushed by male voices raised in chanted song from the chancel, the _Dias Irae_ filling the nave beyond the cancelli that railed the choir off within the sanctuary.  
  
Saturday had undoubtedly brought contrite parishioners to the dark wood booths that stood to the left of the sanctuary. One set had been indicated occupied and the other awaited its next confession.  
  
Alucard put a hand through his hair and with a smile, slipped into the vacant cupboard. Directly before him, a simple padded chair accepted his seated figure and for a moment, he looked around. The interiour was illuminated only by the light outside the confessional, through a cloverleaf lattice window on the narrow door. To his right, another window of the same design separated him from the priest. Alucard knew the nature of the lattice was to obscure the penitent but he let a grin caper on his lips, it chased away when his eyes fell onto the elabourate crucifix stationed on the wall that divided the booth.  
  
A panel slid open and Alucard could only see hints of movement as the priest sat back in his own chair. The vampire crossed his legs ankle to knee, his voice a deep tenor when he licked a fang and spoke. “Bless me Father, for I have sinned,” he intoned near the screen then pressed his cheek against the divider wall and folded hands in his lap.  
  
Anderson turned a few pages of his bible and set it on the small shelf to his left, just below the screen. He adjusted his glasses and was about to reply but remained silent as a jolt ran up his spine. It seemed as though the shadows were watching him in the booth and blonde brows furrowed with familiarity. “What the hell are ye playin’ at, devil?” Alexander hissed quietly, his face close to the lattice window. Alucard fought a smile, toying with a boot buckle, but continued his pantomime.  
  
“It has been mmm…three hundred years since my last confession,” he related, a muted chuckle making the fine hairs on the priest’s neck stand on end for a moment. Alexander cleared his throat, his teeth clenched and a hand pressed to the divider wall.  
  
“You profane this most holy place with your presence, vampire!” he warned in a thick Scottish brogue. “You will leave Rome afore I finish what I began in Ireland. By the will of God, I will make damned sure your head remains forever parted from the rest of ye,” the paladin vowed, silently wishing he had the blessed comfort of his bayonets at his side. He could feel the creature smiling at him through the screen, a moue to mock him in his impotence. Alucard pressed closer to the metal that separated them, catching a flash of light that hit the priest’s glasses.  
  
“With all the devout Catholics just outside our box, _Iscariot_? Surely you jest,” Alucard countered in a whisper then raised a hand to cross himself and pressed palms together, even-toned Latin flowing from his sensual lips. “Confiteor Deo omnipotenti, beatae Mariae semper Virgini,”  
  
“Enough!” Anderson growled lowly, interrupting the prayer, his hand knocking the bible from its resting place. Alucard licked his lips and began anew with another prayer, leaning back in his seat, a long leg stretched out to prop its foot beside the booth door. He laid his arm along the limb and tilted his head back, looking at the peaked ceiling of the confessional.  
  
“Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum.”  
  
“And what would that Protestant whore think if she knew you were parroting the prayers of the True Church?” Alexander murmured, cutting once again through the raven’s diatribe, his smile unseen as Alucard paused and turned to look at the metal lattice. “Have you come to convert, degenerate?” Anderson added with a chuckle of his own and reclaimed the book at his feet, setting it back on the shelf.   
  
“Convert? No,” Alucard answered, ignoring the dig on his master. A gloved finger traced a line from his kneecap to mid-thigh then went limp and sunset eyes peered from behind dark amber glasses. “But you are duty-bound– as a servant of God; His earthly representative– to take my confession, are you not?” The query arched a brow on the paladin’s forehead and he rested his forearm over the book beneath the window, leaning closer.   
  
“That would require you to change gods, heathen. And I don’t think that little girl of yours would be too keen on ye comin’ back to her organisation a _dirty Catholic pig_ – te use her words,” Alexander replied and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a finger. “Aside, I think no man would have enough hours in the day te hear all your sins.”   
  
Alucard couldn’t stop the smile that bore his fangs to the ceiling of the booth and he slipped his left hand behind his head as he reclined. “I agree. You know all too well the length of my sin...Alex,” he teased and turned his smile to the shadowed window. Inside, Anderson felt heat colour his cheeks and he again put his face close to the screen.  
  
“Watch yer tongue, Beast. This is still the House of God!” he admonished. He knew he couldn’t leave the confessional to retrieve his weapons, couldn’t speak above a hissed whisper to the thing on the other side of the divider. He was stuck and had no choice but to humour Alucard and whatever the fiend had playing in his fool head. But the Word taught _’an eye for an eye’_ and he would ensure that Integra’s pet got his in even measure.   
  
“Forgive me, Father,” Alucard purred and resumed pondering the arched ceiling of the almost claustrophobic booth. The leather of his boots creaked quietly as he employed a propped foot to rock the chair on its back legs. “My most grievous sin– apart from nicking one of my master’s cigarillos now and then– is that a fortnight ago, I fucked a priest into the proverbial next week,” he confessed evenly then held open the lapel of his black duster to pull a thin tin from the interiour pocket. As he pulled out a slender cigar and lit it, Alexander fumed behind the lattice.   
  
“An’ I seem to remember that you couldn’t finish because ye had a bayonet ran through yer head, didn’t you.” The paladin snorted, pushing aside the mental barrage of memories that flooded his brain.  
  
“If only to match the bullet in yours, Judas Priest,” Alucard countered, a finger slowly running down the cloverleaf screen between them. The front legs of the vampire’s chair touched ground again and he brought his face close to the little window, catching the scent of the other man then exhaled a lungfull of sweet smoke through the filagree. The shaded lenses Alucard wore dropped with the tip of his chin downward and he peered at Alexander. “Game for a re-match?” he challenged quietly, the points of his fangs visible with the leer that met the blonde.  
  
Anderson held his gaze through the grate with the same intensity, pretending that the idea didn’t make him hard as a rock. “Get out of my confessional, bastard! Get out of my country!” he grumbled and sharply shut the window panel, the sound of his outer door opening and retreating steps pulling another dangerous grin on the vampire’s face. Alucard pinched the end of his cigarillo between finger and thumb, extinguishing the glowing end then exited the booth. He made his way through the vestibule, favouring a smug smirk and disappeared into an early Roman evening.


End file.
